


shut your mouth and see straight through me

by GalaxyGhosty



Series: The Monster's Darling [8]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10317503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: AU. “I’m going to teach you some goddamn manners, I think,” Dark spits. “No, Jack. You’re not getting any more involved in this. Go home, and don’t come back.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of people have been asking about the upload schedule for this fic--and usually how it works is that I constantly have two parts completed, and the next one in the queue goes up. So that means now that this part is up, I have another ready to go, and another one in progress. I try to space them out by a couple of days each time. It's not a DEFINITE schedule, but it's tentative. 
> 
> This part is sort of a wind-down from the intensity of the last part, and Jack's made his wonderful reappearance, much to Dark's chagrin. 
> 
> Feelings are a thing, and _someone_ is particularly unhappy about that. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Title from "Gold" by Sir Sly.

When Dark strolls into the keep that evening, Jules is there, greeting him. 

“You have a new client,” he says, with a shitty grin that makes Dark wary of his actual intentions. “He’s in your office, waiting.”

Dark narrows his gaze. “What’s the catch?” 

Jules is the picture of innocence. “Nothing. Already screened him. He’s not an undercover. He’s legitimate.” 

“I don’t trust you,” he says, and he shouldn’t. Jules has always been sort of shady about that sort of thing if it benefits him. 

He passes him, heading towards his office when Jules calls out to him, “He’s cute, by the way!” 

Dark ignores him and keeps walking. He’s sure he’ll find out what he means in a few moments. Sometimes he wonders why he hasn’t killed that bastard yet. 

The door squeaks as he opens it, as it always does, and so he doesn’t bother to announce his own arrival. Straightening his shoulders, he reminds himself that this is his keep, and he can say and do what he likes with little--if any--repercussion. 

“Let me get this straight,” Dark says as he walks in, slamming the door. “I pick and choose who I want to work for. Whatever you’ve got to say better be good, otherwise you’re walking out of here without a tongue.” 

He moves around to his desk, a slew of papers and pens and legal documents. Beyond his desk, sitting awkwardly and confused, is Jack. 

Dark stares. Then, “Get out.” 

“No,” Jack replies. 

_God_. Dark sinks down in his chair, putting a hand to his head. “Jack, I’m not even going to start questioning how you got here, because you seem to like giving me a fucking heart attack these days, but this is _not_ the place for you. Get out.”

“You’re under this impression that I give a shit,” Jack replies. He crosses his arms. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

“I have a client,” Dark grumbles. In no time at all, he’s getting a headache. Phenomenal. “Baby, you do realize I have an organization to run, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Jack says. “And I’m your client.” 

He thinks of Jules’ shit-eating grin, and his stupid passing comment. Dark wants to throttle him. “No, you’re not. Get the hell out, or I’m throwing you out.”

“Grumpy today,” Jack quips. “Teach me how to fight.”

This kid’s going to kill him. By heart attack or by sheer stupidity, he’s going to kill him. “Do what now?” 

“You’re under this impression that I can’t defend myself,” Jack says. “Against you, against anyone. Now that I’m involved with you--”

“Cry won’t touch you again,” Dark growls. “I’ll see to it.”

“But in the event that he does,” Jack’s blue eyes flicker. “Wouldn’t it be safer to teach me how to defend myself?” 

The passing thought to manhandle Jack out of this room is tempting. On the way out, he could probably give Jules a good slug in his pretty little nose as well. “I’m not teaching you anything.”

“I’m not leaving until you agree to teach me something.”

“I’m going to teach you some goddamn manners, I think,” Dark spits. “No, Jack. You’re not getting any more involved in this. Go home, and don’t come back.” 

“Don’t even talk to me about _manners_ ,” Jack rolls his eyes. “You’ve got _none_. Look, this way you won’t have to worry about me as much--”

Dark sucks in a deep breath, trying to prevent himself from knocking something over on his desk. Truly, he probably should learn to control his temper better, but it usually works as a fear tactic in clients and during missions, so he’s never had a need to, save for Jack. 

“I would be even more concerned about your ability to defend yourself,” Dark hisses. “If you knew how. Because then you’re a threat. Then you’re breakable. Then you’re a target. Jesus Christ, Jack, you don’t know how _any_ of this works. You can’t wrap your fucking mind around how dangerous what I do is and what it could do to you.” 

Jack’s cheeks darken, embarrassment and indignation flooding in. He’s so quick to be irritated at the implication that he’s naive or stupid, but sometimes he is. He’s under this impression that Dark’s just bad character, but everything that he does is _illegal_. A high class felony, and people would put a bullet in him if presented with the opportunity. 

“The best thing you can do to protect yourself,” Dark mumbles. “Is stay out of the way. Stay out of my work, don’t communicate with me unless I contact you first. That’s how they found out about you in the first place. Because you came to me without my knowledge. You have no idea the kind of lengths I went through to keep you from every wandering eye.” 

Jack’s chewing on his lip, a tic he has when he’s anxious, nervous, or frustrated. Sometimes all three. “I don’t care about that. I just…” 

“If I teach you what you want to know,” Dark warns him. “There’s no going back. The first time you kill someone, it stays with you, sweetheart. That person’s blood will be on your hands forever. You won’t be able to go back.” 

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Jack reiterates. “I don’t want in on what you’re doing, what you deal in. I just...I just wanted to defend myself.”

“And the sort of people you’d have to defend yourself from are the very people you’d have to kill,” he counters. “If they come after you, it’ll be with the intent to kill you. So either you kill them or let them kill you.” 

He can see the fight leaving him, and inwardly he breathes out a sigh, because it seems like he’s finally getting it. He makes another mental note to pummel the shit out of Jules later for even letting him in here. 

“Get out,” Dark snarls. “And don’t come back here. I’ll have someone escort you back. Nevermind, _I’ll_ escort you back. Jesus, Jack. _Jesus_. You’re so fucking lucky Jules got to you first.” 

_You mean too much to me to get involved with this_. He doesn’t voice this aloud, but it’s there, ever present and fuck, he hates it. 

The people he works with are awful. They bow to him and often to Jules, but there’s no telling what sort of disgusting things they would’ve done to Jack if they had gotten their grubby hands on him. Dark may have gotten to them, may have been able to properly kill any person who laid a hand on him, but the damage would already be done. He can’t imagine that. He can’t imagine anyone else putting their hands where they don’t belong. 

Heaving a huge sigh, Dark stands from his seat, moving around the desk. Jack rises to meet him, and Dark places a hand between his shoulderblades, guiding him out. 

“No one will hurt you ever again,” he promises in a whisper, perhaps to himself, but Jack hears it too. 

Sometimes, he loves the way Jack allows words to slide, knowing that he isn’t meant to hear them, knowing that Dark isn’t quite comfortable saying them directly. Jack doesn’t speak, doesn’t even incline his head to affirm that he had been listening entirely. But Dark always knows he’s heard from his eyes--Jack’s eyes light up every time he says something like that. 

He’s half tempted to leave Jack alone for ten minutes so he can beat the shit out of Jules, but it’s overwhelmed with the desire to get Jack out of the keep and back into his safe life. It’s giving him an insane amount of anxiousness just seeing him present here. These two factions of his life were never meant to cross. Jack is one side. The organization is the other. That’s how it’s supposed to be. 

Halfway toward the exit, everything happens at once. The lights fizzle, and pop out one by one, and all of his instincts ignite. One bullet fires. Dark immediately shoves Jack toward the wall, hovering over him, and then two shots ring next to him. One. Two. 

“Holy sh--” Jack hisses, and Dark shushes him.

“Don’t speak,” he whispers, pulling his gun out of his belt. With his eyes rapidly adjusting, it’s still hard to see who fired the shot. 

Dark fires a warning shot into the distance, listening for the sound of someone moving, someone scuffing, any sort of sound that indicates a presence. 

Nothing. Dark fires off another shot. 

“Dark--” Jack murmurs, and without speaking to him, Dark puts his free hand over his mouth. 

He glares at him, and Jack’s form grows quiet. In the stillness, Dark tries to search for the shooter, wondering when they’ll make their move, but everything is silent. 

The lights flicker back to life. Jack breathes out unsteadily. Distantly, he hears a door opening, and then the scuffle of feet towards him.

Dark fires at the corner. 

A voice _shrieks_.

“Can you calm the _fuck_ down?” Jules’ head appears, frazzled and crazy, and he thinks this is the only time he’s ever seen Jules with messy hair. “Christ, bitch, watch where you’re aiming.” 

Dark rolls his eyes. Lowering the gun, he puts it back into his holster, grabbing Jack by the arm. “You _ever_ bring him in here again, and I’m going to maim you, you son of a bitch. He could have been _killed_.” 

Jules runs his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t plan this, asshole. Look, we just had an electrical malfunction, that’s all. Stop getting your panties in a twist--”

“Someone fired at us,” Dark snarls. “Three fucking shots, Jules. Someone was in here, and I don’t know what they were after, because I was preoccupied with making sure he was safe.” 

His partner’s glare doesn’t deter him. “I’ll do some investigation. I’ll let you know what I find, and I’ll check with security.”

“Check your goddamn attitude while you’re at it,” Dark spits. Yanking Jack along, he pulls him around the corner, heading towards the exit. 

Initially, Dark’s intention had been to send Jack home on his own, but he can’t get over the sinking paranoia that the shot hadn’t been meant for Dark. His boy is deathly silent as he manhandles him into the car, slamming the door.

They don’t speak until halfway back to Jack’s apartment, when Jack whispers, “Was that meant to hit me?” 

“No,” Dark answers, even if he’s not certain. “It was meant for me. I’ve always got people itching to land a bullet in my skull. Jules included.” 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Jack murmurs. “If it had hit you.” 

He has a sudden pang in his chest, and he hates it, but it’s there. Since he was sixteen, Dark has been the only consistent thing in Jack’s life. Both as a sexual partner and a confidant, there’s nothing that Dark doesn’t know about him. 

Losing him would be a reasonable fear for someone who never had much to begin with. 

Dark rubs at his eyes. “But it didn’t. Don’t dwell on it, baby. I’m fine. You’re fine. Chalk it up as a win. I’m going to find out who did that, and they’re not going to do it ever again.” 

The rest of the drive back is quiet, and Dark prefers it that way. He lights a cigarette, rolling down the window to let the smoke out. He gets about three puffs in when Jack’s hand is reaching for it. 

Dark lets him have it. Raising it to his lips, Jack inhales, and breathes the smoke out. Dark mumbles, “You really shouldn’t do that, you know.”

“Don’t start,” Jack laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. He sucks in another breath. “I don’t, normally.” 

He pulls the car into Jack’s apartment complex, and Jack hands the cigarette back. Dark tosses it out the window, finding that he doesn’t really want to smoke it anymore. When Jack makes no move to get out of the car, Dark gives him an expectant look.

“Can you walk me up?” he asks boldly. 

Dark imagines that, about four years ago, he would have laughed in his face. He imagines that Jack would have never asked such a question, and that he wouldn’t be even driving Jack home to begin with. But things are different now--they’ve all changed, and Dark can’t tell if he likes it or not.

He should say no. He should tell him to get out of the car and go upstairs, and to leave him alone. He should go back to the keep and investigate the infiltration with Jules, despite how pissed he is.

But Dark’s gotten soft and stupid these days. Letting out a low, annoyed sigh, he turns off the car, and unlocks the door. 

“Should I prepare myself to see your wonderful Mark Fischbach?” he sneers out, trying to pretend like he doesn’t care, but it doesn’t quite happen.

Jack’s eyes are bright in the darkness of the car. “We’re not together anymore.”

He gets out, and slams the door. Dark follows him. 

~~

Jack’s apartment is a mess. Not a bad mess, but his own mess. Even from just peering in through the doorway, he can tell that much. 

But it’s homey, full of something uniquely his own. It’s untainted by Dark, untainted by the horrors of the underground, and all that he’s involved in. The apartment has such a warm glow to it--Jack’s socks are lying in odd places, books on the coffee table and probably a refrigerator that’s half empty. The place is so _him_ , calm and wonderful. 

Fischbach had been lucky, so lucky to have ever been with someone like Jack.

Jack lingers in the doorway, not quite entering, and Dark should turn around and go. He should say goodbye and leave--he’s already stayed too long. The longer he sticks around, the more dangerous these circumstances will be. 

“Do…” Jack mumbles, looking up at him through his long lashes. “Do you want to come in?” 

“No,” Dark answers, finding his voice surprisingly tight. _Yes_. 

His boy gives him that secret smile, and Jack is perhaps the only person in the world to know him like this. To know all of his lies and sleights--but he never speaks of it. He doesn’t call him out. Only waits. He knows more than anything how impatient Dark can be. 

Dark is surprised when Jack is the first to move forward, tugging him by the collar of his shirt into his home. He pulls him down enough for their lips to meet, and that’s all it takes--because he never forgets how Jack tastes, but the gesture sets off sparks in him every time it happens. 

The things he wants to do to this boy is unparalleled by any person he’s ever met. He wants to fuck him senseless, to where he forgets his own name, but he has a feeling beyond that--something he refuses to name. It doesn’t have a name, not for someone like him. More than anything, he never wants to stop kissing this boy, never wants to stop holding onto him and grabbing him, never wants this boy to be without him, and perhaps for the first time, he’s put his emotions above his own. 

“Goodnight,” Jack says, and Dark thinks that maybe this is the first time he sees him as an adult, who made a conscious decision to stay, against everything. 

Then Jack gently closes the door, leaving Dark with a hollow feeling in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> 10 points and a cookie to the first person guessing who the shooter was. 
> 
> I am constantly in awe and bewilderment about the love I receive for this series. Thank you so very much for the dedicated support I get for this series every single part. It really means the world to me.
> 
> You can come hang out with me over at galaxyghosty.tumblr.com! I post a lot of nonsense and I do have snippets from the subsequent parts of this series and updates on progress. I always LOVE hearing from you guys!!


End file.
